


Consequences

by HighPitchedRingingNoise



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bloody stuff, Dukat justifying his evil actions again, F/M, Forced miscarriage, Pre-Canon, Unwanted Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 05:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20595311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighPitchedRingingNoise/pseuds/HighPitchedRingingNoise
Summary: Nestled away on Terok Nor, it's not often he sees the bloody consequences of his actions towards the Bajorans.





	Consequences

It wasn't that he wanted to hurt her, mentally or physically. No, she had forced his hand; as she always did, as all of them always did. He clenched his fingers around the back of the couch, feeling the leather crackle under his nails as another pained moan emanated from the bathroom. He hadn't _wanted_ to do it. But he had no other choice. One illegitimate half-breed was dangerous enough, he thought, his eyes flitting to Ziyal's closed bedroom door. Another was unthinkable. One baby was an accident, a slip, an unfortunate indiscretion. Two... two was deliberate. Two was a family.

Another cry made him shut his eyes and he clenched his jaw tightly, warning off the intrusive thoughts. He wasn't a bad person for doing this; Naprem would realise once the grief and hormones had passed that it was a blessing in disguise, it was better for all of them. And he had _told_ her, over and over again, that they couldn't have another child, no matter how lonely she thought little Ziyal felt. She had taken the matter into her own hands when she had no right, and now he had been forced to do the same. Slipping the powder into her tea had been so easy. He had planned a clean exit.

"Skrain!"

He turned his back on the bathroom door, his gaze focusing on the exit. _He hadn't meant for it to happen so quickly._ Vaatrik had told him the drugs would take a few days to take hold... he had hoped to be safely back on Terok Nor by the time the bleeding started. Where was that damned doctor? When her soft moans of pain had stirred him awake a couple of hours earlier in the dead of night, he had nearly lost his evening meal at the sight of the crimson stains spreading down her thighs, forever marking the sheets and the mattress below as a death scene. He'd have to requisition a new bed before his next visit.

Now, the soft light of dawn was starting to peek through the thin curtains, bathing the living room in its soft glow. Ziyal would wake soon.

"SKRAIN!"

He flinched, then squared his shoulders. His plan had not gone accordingly, that was his own fault for being sloppy. He should never have trusted a Bajoran chemist, but he'd needed the discretion. A request for abortion drugs from a Cardassian doctor would have raised too many suspicions. Now, he had to go to her and comfort her. He had nothing to feel guilty about. Any other mistress would have been left to fend for herself, or worse. She should be grateful for him, and he knew that she was - it was one of the reasons he'd kept her for so long.

When he walked into the bathroom, he composed a careful mask of concern, and knelt down on the tiled floor beside her, his hand going to her lower back. The floor was cold and he bit down a sigh of annoyance, if she wanted to lie in here instead of the already-ruined bed then he would indulge her without complaint tonight. Her brow was moist with sweat that left a salty tang as he pressed his lips to her skin softly.

"It hurts," she groaned. "There's so much blood."

That was another miscalculation. She'd been slightly further along than they'd expected, so she was going to bleed more, she'd need medical attention, which again would bring that unwanted prying. Damn Bajorans and their complicated pregnancies. Again, he swallowed his anger. She had been punished enough.

"The doctor will be here soon, my darling," he murmured, steadfastly looking away from the blood-stained towels that lay crumpled on the floor nearby. "He'll take the pain away."

A harsh sob escaped her throat. 

"Nothing can take this pain away." She lay her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes, breathing shallowly through the cramps that seized her insides. "Is Ziyal still asleep?"

He nodded, feeling her soft blonde hair brush against his cheek. 

"Good," she said with a sigh. "I don't want her to see any of this. Oh, Skrain... what are we going to tell her? She's too young to understand."

_There would be nothing to understand if you had just done as you were told,_ he thought with another clench of his jaw. Outwardly, he soothed her, pressing another chaste kiss to her brow, more whispered endearments. She was still crying, but they were dry sobs - her tears had run out hours before.

"Maybe... maybe in a few months once I've healed..." she tried.

"No," Dukat said firmly. "It's too risky... I won't see you go through this again, Naprem."

Her shoulders shook and he tightened his hold on her. "You already have a beautiful daughter, concentrate on Ziyal. Everything will be alright, I promise. You'll see."

She peeled away from his shoulder and looked up at him. For the first time in the five years he'd known her, Dukat was mildly revolted by her. Her face was chalk-white, her eyes red and sore looking, while snot had gathered under nostrils, glistening in that damned dawn light. Her breath carried the stale stench of vomit.

"You promise?" she repeated, and he wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but there was an edge under her voice.

The door chime had never been so welcome.


End file.
